This episode features Clay Beyersdorfer, one of Campfire’s Fellows. Clay Beyersdorfer provides his answer to the Season 17 question, “What happens when you let go of the plan?”. A Fellow’s Campfire can best be described as TED without the data, The Moth but interactive, and a sermon but without the religion. You can learn more about Clay Beyersdorfer on the Campfire website, https://cmpfr.com/events/clay-beyersdorfer/.
The Campfire Fellows go through rigorous training and coaching provided by Campfire Faculty so they can share their wisdom through story for you. Our Fellows are the people next to you at stoplights or walking by on the street. These Fellows apply or are nominated by people like you, who know interesting and introspective people with some wisdom to share. The Fellows go through a unique process with our team to discover a wealth of wisdom inside themselves and then are trained on how to share the origin stories of their wisdom.
This episode was originally performed in March 2018, produced by Andrew Warshauer, and recorded live at The Stage at KDHX.
This episode features Clay Beyersdorfer, one of Campfire’s Fellows. Clay Beyersdorfer provides his answer to the Season 17 question, “What happens when you let go of the plan?”. A Fellow’s Campfire can best be described as TED without the data, The Moth but interactive, and a sermon but without the religion. You can learn more about Clay Beyersdorfer on the Campfire website, https://cmpfr.com/events/clay-beyersdorfer/.
The Campfire Fellows go through rigorous training and coaching provided by Campfire Faculty so they can share their wisdom through story for you. Our Fellows are the people next to you at stoplights or walking by on the street. These Fellows apply or are nominated by people like you, who know interesting and introspective people with some wisdom to share. The Fellows go through a unique process with our team to discover a wealth of wisdom inside themselves and then are trained on how to share the origin stories of their wisdom.
This episode was originally performed in March 2018, produced by Andrew Warshauer, and recorded live at The Stage at KDHX.
Steven Harowitz: 0:06
Hi, I'm Steven Harowitz, the Director of Campfire. You are listening to Campfire at Home. It's our way of bringing the live experience to you, whether that be listening and reflecting by yourself or experiencing it with friends. Each Campfire invites listeners into discussions about life and how we live it. Before we get too deep into Campfire at Home, we do want to share a few opportunities to get involved beyond our show. We offer classes and workshops that bring our expertise in style, public speaking, story construction, and group facilitation to the big questions in your life or at your work. If you or your organization are interested, visit cmpfr.com. That's c m p f r dot com. Each Campfire Season poses a life question that is explored by our Campfire Fellows together with our audience. Today, we're gonna listen to Clay Beyersdorfer answer the Season question, what happens when you let go of the plan? We were lucky enough to catch up with Clay for a post-Campfire interview that I would love to share with you now. So it's my pleasure to have Clay in the studio with me today. Can you maybe just give us a quick overview of your Campfire?
Clay Beyersdorfer: 1:20
My Campfire was the most nerve-wracking experience. One of the most nerve wracking experiences of my life. Very fortunate to have the opportunity for, ah, to go up on stage and tell the story. Um, kind of focusing on the question itself, like my original answer to the question was different than the answer that I really I think I ended up with. And I think that's a testament to the process that, you know, we go through as Fellows and, um, really honing in and really diving into our own stories and thinking about, you know, the exact moments where, you know, we felt pain or we felt happy. Um, it was just a really great experience. And to kind of frame up my answer to the question, I, um, took a look back at the last six times that I've cried, and I think why I wanted to go with that is because it was something that's so relatable. People cry. And I think that's something that ah, one, people can just really relate to. Like, "Oh, yeah, like I definitely cried too." So in that sense, um it helped kind of frame the discussion. And two, it was just a really good way for me to memorize where I was at, um, and I did my best, but, um, I really enjoyed the experience, and it was just a really great opportunity.
Steven Harowitz: 2:29
That's great. And you mentioned your answer kind of changing. Can you maybe tell us what your ultimate answer ended up being?
Clay Beyersdorfer: 2:35
Yeah. So my answer to the question, "What happens when you let go of the plan?", is. See, I'm gonna botch it. My answer to what happens when you let go of the plan is you cry. You literally get blown up. You hate people who you never thought you'd hate. But once you kind of get through all the tough times in, what happens when you let go of the plan, you figure out who you are as a person, what you want out of this life, who you want in your life, and, ultimately, what makes you happy.
Steven Harowitz: 3:05
Great. And before you became a Fellow, did you have any specific feelings about the concept of plan?
Clay Beyersdorfer: 3:11
Um, I, you know, it's funny. I am a natural planner just in my own right. I think I always have been, whether it was this grand plan that I you know, that I initially set on, you know, 5, 6 years ago or just in my daily life. Like I wake up and, you know, I have a list of things that I want to get done. I feel like it kind of keeps me task-oriented and, um, otherwise, I feel like I won't get anything done, but so I've always kind of been a natural planner. But exploring this, like this question specifically, allowed me to really think about what it means to plan and what it, um, kind of the psychological and the mental process that you go through when you form the plan and and what are the driving behaviors as to why you have formed the plan. Uh, so yeah.
Steven Harowitz: 3:54
Yeah, that makes sense. And I'm wondering, did that experience, did that heighten maybe your view of how important the concept of plan is, or did you think cause you were a natural planner, did you already think plan was important.
Clay Beyersdorfer: 4:11
I think I think everyone's definition of plan is is important. I think we all have a different, a different definition of what a plan actually is. I think people, some people are more loose with what they consider to be a plan, as opposed to, you know, those type A personalities who are very like, "No, it needs to be black and white. A, B, C, D, E, F, and so on and so on". Um but I think my concept of plan really, um, got expecting. My thought about what a plan is expanded, even as I went throughout this process. Um, like I said, my I think my original answer to the plan or to the question was like, it's okay to let go of the plan, which is, like, not the most introspective or great answer to the question, what happens when you let go the plan? Like, you don't just say like, "Well, you let go the plan." But for me, like that on a very simplified level, like, that's what it was like. Okay, like you let go, and you move on. But going throughout this process and kind of reflecting over the last couple of years and big life events is, no, there's a lot more to it, you know. That's a simplified answer, but going through this process and and, you know, working with you and the other Fellows, it was a really great opportunity to kind of take a deeper dive into the question. So the answer questions. Yes, my, my vision or kind of how I see the word plan has definitely changed.
Steven Harowitz: 5:24
We had a meeting a little bit ago with Bonner, and one of the things we're doing is taking pictures of people's name tags so we can post on Facebook. It's just so fascinating to see the answers that people provide back because I think they're clearly not getting the full Fellows experience. But it's it's such a spectrum of answers, where it is like some of them are really simple, like start a new plan, and other ones are clearly, far deeper, which maybe means they've had some plans implode on them. I'm not sure, but it does elicit quite a range to your point. I'd be interested to know what types of reflection or discussions did you have about plan, maybe beyond the Fellow spaces, and if that even came up in your everyday life?
Clay Beyersdorfer: 6:08
You know, I don't think it really did, and I think it was a good thing because it really, going through the process really kind of I want to say like forced, but it put me in a position to where it's like, "Hey, you have a live performance coming up." Like, "You need to be on your game." But in, so there's that on one hand. But on the other hand, it was a really good opportunity for me to just take time out of my normal activities and day and really kind of think about the question and really just kind of be introspective and really get myself in a good thought process. And it's almost kind of calming when you kind of really sit back and just kind of take time to think about things. So, um, like I said, it was a great opportunity for that and because I got to go throughout that process, like my answer to the question definitely changed. And I think, um, because of that, it resonated with people a lot more during the show.
Steven Harowitz: 6:56
Yeah, I would agree with that. That leads into, so your Campfire didn't have a ton of call-and-response. You did a bunch of other really fastening stuff, like giving out a ball pit balls, which will, if you listen to the episode, that will make a lot of sense. But you did get Facebook messages or messages in general?
Steven Harowitz: 7:13
I did. I did. So I guess I gained some fans overnight. No, I I got a really, really nice thoughtful message, ah, from a lady the morning after my Campfire, and she really just took the time out to send me a really heartfelt message that said, "Thank you so much, you know, for talking, what you said. Um, you know, it meant a lot to me. It's, it's given me a lot of time, you know, to think, and it's given me some things to think about." Um, I got another message that said, you know, "Thank you so much for for standing up for those with depression and PTSD, and, you know, I'm fighting that myself, and it's really great to just know that, you know, there's a voice out there that can stand for those kinds of things and let people know that it's okay to deal with those." Um, so it was really kind of motivating to me. Like, hey, at least one person or a few, you know, maybe a few people actually listen, So I was really grateful for those messages. And I can't tell you how much they mean to me.
Steven Harowitz: 8:07
Yeah, I know the first person, that was somebody you didn't know. It was like a stranger.
Clay Beyersdorfer: 8:11
Sure.
Steven Harowitz: 8:12
And then was the second person somebody you knew?
Steven Harowitz: 8:14
The second person was not, also not someone. I didn't, I didn't cut and past that one and send it to you guys. Yeah. Um, no. They both, I mean, just were so heartfelt and so elegant in a way that they spoke about it. And it was just, um, it was a really great way to start my Thursday. That's for sure.
Steven Harowitz: 8:31
Awesome. One thing that I like to give to folks when we do these interviews is because it is live event and you have 40 minutes to talk, and it needs for the most parts memorized is sometimes things get missed. Is there anything that you, on reflection, like that, "Oh, damn. I should have said that thing."?
Clay Beyersdorfer: 8:49
Um, other than kind of going out of order in telling people the times that I've cried. Um, I hopefully made up for that. Um, because there's just so much that I think that was the hardest part for me is just like I knew this story, and I knew how much it meant. But I wanted to give people enough time to really reflect on what I was saying, as opposed to speeding through it. Um, but no, I mean, I think there's so much more to that story that I could could go on. I mean, 40 minutes just flies by, you know, and you really get through it. But, um, I'm I'm happy if people took something away from what I said, and I'm I'm always open to, you know, have a cup of coffee or discuss my story more.
Steven Harowitz: 9:29
Yeah. I don't think at least from the feedback I got, nobody even noticed, not even a little bit that you went out of order in there, so you recovered very well.
Clay Beyersdorfer: 9:39
Thank you.
Steven Harowitz: 0:00
Actually. Ah, so now that your past being a fellow, this is kind of the last piece before we do maybe a little debrief and have Wendy's as a remainder. Do you have different thoughts about the concept of plan having gone through this process? Do you see it differently? Not just in your answer but just as a concept.
Clay Beyersdorfer: 9:57
I think so, and I talked a little bit about it before in terms of, like, what does it really mean to plan and, like, lose a plan and have a plan. Um, I think the best part, and I told so many people this kind of after the show, um, you know, thank you to all that stayed after and, you know, give me hugs and shook my hand. It felt so great. But I think a big part of me and one of the big reasons I wanted to do this is, one, I just want to be able to tell my story. But two, it was such a a therapeutic thing for me to talk about all the things that I talked about because it was really the first time that I was able to really tell that story as a full as opposed to bits and pieces. Um, so my idea and and really kind of my overall thought of, you know, what it means to let go of the plan or even have a plan, yeah, definitely changed, but I'm I'm grateful for that experience, and I think coming out from that experience and moving forward like I'll just continue to live that way and continue to, you know, take the ball as it comes, to take the ball as it rolls, and, um, you know, help other people too who might be struggling with some of the things that I struggled with.
Steven Harowitz: 11:02
Well, I know it was a a longer road than usual to get you to be a Fellow as you were moving to Chicago and then you came back. But I give you a lot of kudos for staying in touch, and I think it worked out with the Season question. It felt like it went really well for you. Not sure if you believe in fate or destiny moment, but stars align. They did. They definitely did. But I, clearly you got messages after the fact, but I think it was very powerful, what you shared. I think you stood there, were vulnerable, but you also took care of the audience because some of the stuff you're talking about is heavy. But it's also true you didn't, you didn't try to lessen your experience. You owned it and planted your flag, raising that's like, I'm, this is who I am. This is my [inaudible]. We can see that, which is so cool. So a huge thank you for being a part of it.
Clay Beyersdorfer: 11:48
Thank you for having me. Really appreciate it.
Steven Harowitz: 11:50
Our pleasure. So now let's head down to The Stage at KDHX to hear Clay's Campfire.
Clay Beyersdorfer: 11:59
Give it up one more time for Steven and the rest of the Campfire staff, please. Um, thank you all so much for coming tonight. I'm really, I have to be honest with you. I'm really nervous, and I'm really excited to share this story. We had tech rehearsal Monday night, and I, like, sped through like the first fifth of it because I was so excited, like, amped up. So just work with me a little bit. We'll get into the transition. Um, we're gonna get this thing going. Um, we're here tonight to answer the question, what happens when you let go of the plan? To kind of guide how I come, my answer for the plan is I'm gonna tell you about the last six times that I've cried over the last 10 years. I only know that I've cried six times, because I'm not a crier by nature. And if you asked anybody here tonight who actually knows me or knows me outside of Campfire, they will tell you the exact same thing amongst many other things. See, I grew up with divorced parents, like a lot of people in the world, and growing up with divorced parents is already hard enough. But one of the things that I struggle with mostly is the fact that I spent most of my time schlepping between Illinois and Missouri. My dad lived in Illinois, my mom in Missouri, and one of the biggest hurdles that I had to jump over as a kid and especially as I transitioned to become a young man and young adult was having to look at my friends who had these perfect American families, right? The American dream, right? Mom and Dad are married. We have a dog. We have the picket white fence. We have all of that, and a lot of my friends did. But I spent a lot of time wondering and hoping and wishing and wanting this this kind of set up that they had, right. I spent so much time wanting that perfect, you know, situation, that stability. And I think, really, that was kind of the start, even as a kid, of when I started to plan. I planned for that stability. I wanted that stability. I wanted that love and affection. I didn't wanna have to do what I was doing as a child. I graduated high school in 2009. This is the year that Twitter was starting to get really big. Um, Slumdog Millionaire was taking cinema by storm, and everyone thought they could, you know, answer questions for a $1,000,000. Um, President Barack Obama was in, I think, like his first or second year of presidency. Shout out to Obama for sure. Ah, so I graduated high school in 2009 and coming out of high school, my life was starting to get really sweet. I was finally out from under my dad's roof. I was a full fledged 18 year old adult. I wasn't having to schlep back and forth between Illinois and Missouri and spend time and, you know, kind of fighting for affection between two divorced parents. I was ready to go to college, and even though I only started at neighboring SIU Edwardsville, it was really a chance for me to get out and kind of be out on my own and really start, start this plan, you know, strive for this plan. I was gonna go to college. I was gonna have a lot of fun. I was gonna graduate on time. I was gonna get a good job. I was gonna marry the right girl, have kids, do all that American mushy, cushy crap, right? I wanted that so, so badly, coming out of high school, at such a young age. It's so weird, at a young age to want that so bad. But I did. I started my freshman year at SIUE, and the plan was in full swing. The biggest problem with with that is the fact that I put too much emphasis on the fun portion of the plan, like many freshmen typically do. I was one of those. Um, I I put way too much emphasis on the fun portion of the plan. I was getting drunk. I was getting high. I was, you know, skipping class. I was doing all the things that I was clearly not supposed to be doing or doing things that would keep me from sticking on this plan that I wanted so badly. But I kept doing them anyway, and freshman year flew by and somehow I was still allowed to stay in school. Looking back on it now, I actually laugh. The fact that I got through an entire year getting drunk and high every single day. Sophomore year came around and I was ready to go twice as hard, right? I had just gotten through an entire year of complete debauchery and acting like, you know, a moron and being 18, 19 years old. And I was ready to go into sophomore year with twice as much vigor, twice as much energy and partying and and continue to live this plan or what I thought was this plan, you know, the original plan that I wanted so badly. I had the problem with that as I started to really neglect my responsibilities and thinking that this fantasy land of getting drunk and getting high and and just skipping class, skipping meetings was really what was meant to be for me. All the things that I did kept me from really, um you know, taking care of the responsibilities I had. The biggest responsibility that I had kind of going into sophomore year was turning in my financial aid paperwork, er, FAFSA, um, to actually go to school. It's weird. You have to pay to get an education in this country. But I didn't, you know, turn my FAFSA paper paper work. I wasn't turning in my FAFSA paperwork. I spent an entire semester continuing to goof off and, spoiler alert, I didn't get that paperwork turned in. Hence, I was not able to go back to school. I dropped the ball. So as a token of appreciation for all of you coming here tonight, we have balls that we are actually going to pass out and hand to you. So please enjoy these as we slowly pass them out here. I'm also going to take a sip of my beer during this, and the answer is no, we did not steal these from McDonald's playground. Also, please do not throw these at me. If it's, if it starts to suck at any point the evening, just stand up and tell me. Like I'm not gonna get offended. Um, keep a hold of these. Please do not throw them at someone else in the audience or at me. Thank you to my fellow Fellows for passing all those balls out. I remember the exact day that I realized that all the debauchery and all the acting like a complete idiot for a year and half, um, and the gravity of that situation, what, what that would actually lead to. A friend of mine's mother, Justin, his mother had gotten cancer earlier on in that year, and it was a really tough time for us. We were kind of at an age where we really realized kind of what death was, the magnitude of death, because I think as a young child, you don't fully grasp that concept. But we're a bunch of 18-, 19-year-olds, and it was really the first time that any of us had lost someone super close. It was a tough time. This was a woman who had sat on the sideline at soccer games. You know, she had made orange slices. I had spent the night at his house before. This was someone who I had really grown to love and grown to know over the past 18, 19 years. Not to take anything away from that, but the day of her funeral was also the day that I I got a call from SIUE saying that I was not gonna be able to go back to school the following semester. It was so easy to turn in that financial financial aid paperwork, and yet I spent a year and half putting it off. And now I was gonna reap basically the terrible seeds that I had sown. I was not gonna be able to go back to school. I was not gonna be able to continue to live this plan that I wanted so badly. A few weeks later, kind of after everything, you know, kind of settled in, I really realized, you know, hey, I'm not gonna be able to go back to school. I packed up my truck and decided to move in with my mom who lives over here in St. Louis. It was a cold December night. I didn't even turn on the radio. I was driving a real piece of shit like red pickup at the time, so I had it all packed up. But I remember thinking on that on that truck drive, going down 70 West at like, 10 o'clock at night, you know, completely cold. My heater's blowing. I remember thinking like, how in the hell did this just happen? I had done everything completely wrong, and I put myself in this position. How did I allow myself to get into this position? So on that truck ride going down 70 West on a cold December night back in 2010 was the first time that I've cried. It was the first of six times that I have cried in the last 10 years, and now you can all see Cry Number One. I remember how much that hurt, and it's a, crying is not a good sensation. It's not a good feeling. It's the body's physical release when they, literally when your body literally cannot just take any more sadness. Your body releases tears. Your face gets clammed up. You can't see out of your eyes, and I was actually driving, so it's completely unsafe to cry while you drive, just a caveat, but that feeling of just kind of wellness in your face. Your cheeks are burning. You start to get a headache. Crying is not a good feeling. So for the next minute or two, I want you to think about the last time that you actually cried and what that meant and what that felt and how that felt to you and what the cause of that those tears were. Let's take a minute or two and really think about that.
Clay Beyersdorfer: 23:03
If anyone is comfortable to share, please raise your hand. We would love to hear about the last time that you broke down in tears. If not, that's totally okay. I'll keep going. Anybody want to share?
Audience Member: 23:19
Um, it's not the last time.
Clay Beyersdorfer: 23:20
We'll take any time. Thank you for not embarrassing me.
Audience Member: 23:28
And I actually have thought about this. Um and that I was gonna publicly do this sometimes, but it's just it's now.
Clay Beyersdorfer: 23:35
You are amongst friends here. Please let it out.
Audience Member: 23:38
Um, I've thought about the times that I've cried in front of my bosses. I've thought actually, how strong I was, that it was okay to cry in front of my bosses. And it has happened three times, and, um, it happened this year. And I was very upset at that moment. I mean, it was, this one was bawling.
Clay Beyersdorfer: 24:20
I've been there in front.
Audience Member: 24:22
In front of your bosses?
Clay Beyersdorfer: 24:23
Yeah, not recently.
Audience Member: 24:26
Which cry is that?
Clay Beyersdorfer: 24:28
You gotta stay around for the next 35 minutes to find out.
Audience Member: 24:31
So, um, but I just think about, you know, not how beautiful it was, but it's okay to cry. You know, we're told we're not supposed to cry, especially if you're male. Um, but it's okay to cry. And so it's just where, what it was and I took the time. My last, and the last cry was really, yes, I say horrible. They had to stop. It was actually a few bosses of mine. Um, and they didn't know what was going on. I knew what was going on. What had happened was, um, childhood memories came up. It was from childhood in terms of not having a voice when I was a child. My automatic reaction when I was a child, at probably age seven it happened, was I cried in front of my father. Just like he didn't want to hear it. He didn't want me to express myself. And here I had an opportunity this year in January, and whenever this happened, in front of my bosses, an opportunity to express myself. And it was very strong in expressing myself. Yet I had these memories of not being able to express myself. So a lot of those tears actually came from not being able to express myself in the past. And I just clammed up. I cried. I couldn't even speak at times. But at the same time as I say, you know, I'm really proud that I'm able to even express this, that it's okay to cry, you know, in front of your bosses.
Clay Beyersdorfer: 26:11
Absolutely. Thank you so much for sharing. Please give it up for her. All right, let's move on. Uh, so coming out of that coming out of that nighttime cry, the first first time I've cried out of six in the last 10 years, I felt like an absolute failure. I was 19, officially labeled a college dropout. Shout out to Kanye West. He looked, made it look way better than I did. But I was a college dropout. I was completely off course from the original plan that I wanted, and I was just lost completely. I wasn't able to go back to school. I had no idea what the hell I was gonna do with the rest of my life. And that's that's so tough for a 19 year old kid to answer that question. What are you going to do with the rest of your life? I had no idea. I thought originally I knew with this plan, but here I was 19 years old. Spring semester, 2000, what, 11. And I was a college dropout. So I spent some time kind of going back and forth weighing my different options in terms of you know, what I was going to do next. Clearly, I was not able to get back on the original plan of, you know, finishing school in four years, getting married, getting a job, having kids, doing all that stuff. I wasn't gonna be able to do that right now. So the next course of action and the next plan that I came, kind of came up with was to join the United States Army, and I did it for a couple of reasons. First and foremost, it would allow me to kind of pay for school, so it was one thing that I wouldn't have to worry about. It was less financial aid paperwork that I was gonna have to turn in because the Army would just take care of it for me. Um, it would put, it would put some money in my pocket, so I wouldn't have to worry about getting a job or, you know, paying bills or anything like that. It would put less stress on me, but probably the most important reason why I decided to join was the fact that it would provide some damn structure in my life. I was 19 years old. I had no clue what I was doing. I clearly had just demonstrated for a year and half that I was not ready to live my life out on my own out of my parent, you know, from under my parents' roof. I wasn't able to do that, so I joined the Army. I went to the most extreme solution possible, joining the Army to provide myself with a sense of structure, to put some money in my pocket, and to set me set me up, really for the rest of the future. I didn't leave for basic training until May of that year. So between January, February and May, four months, I got a job working at Whole Foods, um, as a cashier. The Whole Foods in Town & Country. I don't know if anyone lives out there, but I worked at that Whole Foods in 2011 for four months. So if you don't remember me, you were missing out clearly. But I was working at Whole Foods, and the whole time I was working at at a Whole Foods, like I thought, "Good God, man, like you're 19. You're a college dropout, and now you're working as a cashier in a grocery store." And not to take anything away from anyone who does that profession. I have a ton, I have a lot more respect for people who work in grocery stores now. But living that lifestyle was clearly not just what, not what I wanted at all. I was working weird hours that as a grocery store cashier, and all the meanwhile, my friends were on the other side of the river partying, having a good time, getting to meet new people, try new things, try new experiences, all the while continuing to get an education, which was the most important part, obviously. But they continued to be on this plan that I wanted so, so badly. I saw my friends do it for literally, almost an entire semester, and I never once told them, but I hated them for it. I've never told them before this night that I absolutely hated them for that, for continuing to live out a plan which I wanted so badly and so desperately. I felt so much hate towards them in that 4 to 5 month period before I left for basic training. It was like the plan was an arm's reach away, and yet it was literally just like I was in this sense of purgatory, caught between what I was, you know, really wanted to be doing, caught between, you know, falling farther behind. And my friends were continuing to live out that plan that I wanted so badly, and I had to watch it all happen. I eventually did leave for basic training in May of 2011, and I spent the next seven months, you know, kind of learning all things, you know, Army. Between being stationed at Oklahoma, being stationed in Maryland, I learned all things Army. The Army was a definite new experience for someone who had just spent pretty much the last two years doing drugs and drinking every day. The Army is like a complete 180 of that. Just to give you, you know, some context, if you didn't already know that, it's weird when you provide a degenerate with a sense of structure and in a sense of kind of like stability, what that does to them both mentally and physically. I would wake up at four o'clock, five o'clock in the morning and literally be sick with the morning air. It was pitch black out, but every day I would wake up at four o'clock, five o'clock in the morning and be sick to my stomach because I was not used to waking up before 11 at that point in my life. So 4 to 5 a.m. was really, really early, but it's weird when you provide that kind of structure and that kind of stability to someone who is completely not used to it, and because of that, I really transformed over the course of seven months. I learned what it meant to have honor, to have integrity, to have self responsibility, to have all those good things they put in the Go Army commercials that you see on TV. I actually did learn that. I got in the best mental and physical shape of my life. But all the while, even though I was, you know, growing this self confidence and learning all these new things and really kind of growing as a person, both mentally and physically, I was still left behind. All my friends were still back at home continuing on the plan, and I was in the Army, you know, doing my own thing, not really on what I considered to be the right plan. It was like getting a pit stop and watching everyone else continue to race by you. I was in a hold pattern still, so despite the self confidence, you know, the self assurance, you know, the sense of honor, of honor and integrity and responsibility, I still hated my friends so so much for continuing to live out a life that I wanted so so desperately. I eventually did get through training. It was about seven months and, like I came home in late October, early November of 2011, and I came home with kind of, ah, like a renewed sense of self purpose. I had learned the errors of my ways. I had learned that, hey, you should probably turn in paperwork if they tell you to turn in paperwork. Why I had to join the Army to learn that lesson, I don't, I will never know. But that's how it happened. I spent seven months getting in the best mental and kind of physical shape of my life, and I came back and ready to go back to school and get back on this original plan once again. This time I was able to transfer to the University of Missouri, which was kind of my dream school growing up. I wanted to be a Big J journalist and be the next Walter Cronkite. So I went to the University of Missouri with a renewed sense of self purpose, responsibility, and I truly kind of appreciated what it meant to have that opportunity in my life. I had never felt that way about anything before, but going to Mizzou was one of the best times of my life. I spent about two and half years at Mizzou in total, and after kind of the first year, not kind of after, after the first year, I had gotten a job at the career center on campus. In the fall of 2012, I came out of work one day and I usually sat on a bench in the quad and just kind of caught my breath, kind of gathered myself and would really just kind of take in the day. It's a beautiful time to be on Mizzou's campus, if you can ever get down there during the fall. Um, that was a side note, not part of my story. I remember sitting on that park bench, and my phone rang in my pocket. I picked up the phone call, and I said, "Hello," and a voice on the other set, on the other end, said, "Corporal Beyersdorfer, we're going to be deploying to Afghanistan next summer." Have you guys ever heard the words, heard the phrase, "Words can cut through you like a knife," right? You can say, yes. It's totally fine. Well, fuck that knife. That phone call made me feel like I got hit by a truck. At that point in my life, and not because I was going to have to go to war-torn Afghanistan and the Middle East, 1,000 miles away, but I was upset because once again I was gonna have to abandon that original plan. I was gonna have to put my life on hold to go do something that I had no interest in doing. It was kind of naive of me to think that I would never go anywhere being a part of the military, but for some reason, I believed so much in the plan of going to school and finishing and getting a job and finding the right girl that that's all I could think about in that moment. I could care less that I was about to spend a year of my life in the desert. I was more focused on the fact that I wasn't gonna graduate the following year, and it's really messed up, actually, to just say that out loud now, in front of you all. I sat there on that park bench, and I cried for what was the third time. Three of six, of the last six times over the last 10 years. It was a really defeating moment for me. Once again, I was gonna have to abandon the plan. Once again, I was gonna have to abandon my friends, new and old, and they were gonna continue to live out their life without me. I left for pre-deployment training in May of the following year, and shortly after I deployed to Afghanistan in the late summer of 2013, I spent the first three or four months acclimating to the heat, drinking about a gallon of water a day to wilt away from, to keep me from wilting away to nothing, all the while missing my friends and family back home. We do have some photos for you, though, to look at. So this is the plane in which I came over, just to give you some context. It takes about 20 hours to get to Afghanistan. So just a quick plane ride. Obviously, um, it takes about 20 hours. You sit on the same plane the entire time. They have one bathroom for about 200 people. You're wearing about 70 pounds of gear. Um, it's not fun. This is me climbing a mountain, giving the Shaka, Shaka bro sign. It was one of the high points of the deployment. This mountain actually is on the base of the Himalayas. The base of the Himalayas actually start in northern Afghanistan. This is me with my Australian friend Paul. I was looking at Paul saying like, "Wow, your gear is way cooler than mine. How do I get some of that, bro?" I also had a really sweet mustache at the time, and I clearly made some friends while I was over there. This young man learned one thing from American soldiers, and it was giving the bird. So, um, I was really fortunate to meet that young man. And then finally, this is me about two weeks, right before I left with my friend Paul, um, running a mission. I still had that really sweet porn stash. Afghanistan was a really interesting time. Um, I learned a lot about myself. I learned a lot about other people. I was able to travel the roads and travel southern Afghanistan for nearly an entire year, meeting people from different nations, um, learning parts of different languages and really just kind of discovering the rest of the world. I didn't really appreciate all of that and until really just the last couple of years and kind of reflecting on it. After those first three or four months, ah, the holidays came around, so around Nove-, November, December, Thanksgiving, Christmas. And if you ask any service member kind of what the hardest part about being away is, I guarantee you in their top three or top five, one of the hardest parts about being away is the holidays. It's one of the most special times a year for, whether you're overseas or, you know, here for a service member or not service member, you get to spend time with people that you really enjoy spending time with. You get to catch up with old friends. See family members that you haven't seen. You know, drink beer and watch football with your uncle who you see twice a year. I don't know whatever your bag is during the holidays, but that's what you get to do. And I missed that. Once again, my friends were back home during the holidays, getting to do all these things. They were continuing, you know, to go out, to be on this plan that I wanted so badly, this plan of stability, this plan of continuing to have fun in school, to graduate, to get a job, to do all those wonderful things. I wasn't able to do that. I was stuck 1,000 miles away in the middle of the desert, watching my entire life continue to pass me by. At least that's what I thought. Christmas came around, and I almost really hit rock bottom during that portion of the deployment. I finally did get a chance to call my mom, and I had not talked to her in months, so I was, one, really excited to talk to her and, two, really nervous. She knew that I hated it over there. She knew that I was not happy being there. She really knew how much I wanted that plan, and she knew how desperate I was to get back on that plan. We got on the phone, and we exchanged the usual kind of, "How our you?"s. You know, "How are you feeling?" Um, you know, "What's going on over there? How's everybody at home?" All that, you know, really baseline level stuff. See, my mom had been my rock for a while. I mentioned earlier that I grew up with divorced parents and kind as I got older, my mom and I got really close and became really best friends. She was supposed to come tonight, and she'd totally be bawling after me saying that. But I can honestly say that my mom is one of my best friends and continues to be one of my best friends today. She was my rock through when I was working in a Whole Foods. She was my rock in my decision to joining the Army. She was my rock during this entire year away. In my life, I don't know if it was mother's intuition or just kind of a mother's love, but we got to a point in the conversation where neither of us were saying anything. The phone was went completely silent. She knew how much I hated it over there. She knew how much I didn't want to be there. She knew that this, me being in the army in general and being deployed to Afghanistan was not part of the original plan, and I feel that a part of herself continue, would ask herself, "How did I let this happen as a mother? What could I have done to keep my son from deploying? What could I have done my to keep my son from being in this life that he doesn't want to be in?" She never told me those words, but I felt that in her lack of voice and her in in her silence halfway across the world. I missed her so so much for that entire year. She had been my rock. She had been just my stable force that I wanted so badly. I want you all to kind of think of someone who means that much to you or in your life. Think about someone who maybe you haven't talked to, maybe who you haven't reached out to recently, or someone that could just really use some thought or some prayer or just a, "Hey, I miss you man," or "I miss you, lady, woman," whatever your verbage is. "I miss you, and I'm thinking about you, and I care about you more than anything in the world." We do have some post cards right now that are going to be passed out. And what I want you to do with these postcards is think about that person that you miss dearly or that you care about that much. On this postcard, I want you to write them a short message, and we're gonna give this card to you, so feel free to distribute or mail it tomorrow or don't mail it. But we're gonna give you a minute or two to really kind of reflect and think about someone who you haven't connected with or someone that you really miss a lot right now. Write them a short message. Do whatever you need to do. Mail it out tomorrow. We're gonna give you this time to write that message right now.
Clay Beyersdorfer: 45:06
All right, let's slowly wrap it up. Continue to finish any last thoughts, any last notes. Um, we have provided these guy these postcards for you, so please feel free to mail them out at your doing. It does not have to be immediate. Just, um, just reach out to someone who you really miss or you really care about right now. That's why we wanted to give you this time. I want to take you guys back a little bit before we continue to progress in this story to the second time that I've cried, the second of six times that I've cried over the last 10 years. See the day that I left my mom and I, the day that I left for basic training. So this is before I even left for Afghanistan. The day that I left was a really solemn day. It was dark. It was gloomy. It was grey. It was really disgusting out. We left at like five o'clock in the morning to go down to the shipping depot off Kingshighway here in St. Louis. We didn't say a word to each other on the drive. We didn't say anything to each other, and we pulled in the parking lot and we looked up and the sky is gray. It's disgusting. It's almost like a foreshadowing for what was about to come or a four. I don't know if it's foreshadow is the right word, but really just a symbol of what I had just gone through, this storm that I had just weathered or maybe the storm that I was about to weather. We sat there in complete silence before she dropped me off, before I shipped off to basic training, and after some time I turned to her and I said, "I have to go," and we sat there and we cried together in that parking lot. And that was the second of six times that I've cried over the last 10 years. Kind of fast forwarding, and spoiler alert. She's gonna be involved in the third time, too, because on that on that phone call that I had with her on that Christmas in 2013 was also just a very low point in my life. I had missed her. I'd missed being home. I missed being on this original plan, and that dead silence, that lack of verbal communication, but not not verbal communication, but just what was going on between us over the silence and that phone was so powerful, and she could tell that I missed her so much and that she loved me so much, and she wanted better for what I was doing currently. On that phone call on Christmas night in 2013 was the third time of six that I've cried over the last 10 years. It was a really, really tough time, but I had gotten through winter, and springtime had come around, and I say springtime, but there's actually no springtime in Afghanistan. It goes from being really, really cold to really, really hot, really, really fast. Just to kind of give you a context of, you know, what Afghanistan is like during the summer, it was 130 degrees the day that I had left, 130 degrees. It's like sticking your head in an oven. It was so hot. Like, right around February, March is when it just flicks on and that heat rises. I was scheduled to leave in May of that year. My kind of departure date had been pushed up and I was really excited, and that started to kind of really give me positive energy. I was gonna be able to leave Afghanistan. I was able gonna be able to go back home and get back on this plan of having stability, finishing school, you know, at the University of Missouri, you know, meeting the right girl, getting married and doing all those wonderful things. Unfortunately for me, the world had other plans. I was put on a mission on May 11th of 2014 to a nearby village called Manesar. It was a mission that I had run so many different times before. It was escorting a civilian journalist who was there to cover kind of the progress in Afghanistan and to kind of cover troop movement and everything that was happening there. For this particular mission, we were gonna be in bed with an infantry unit that was delivering medical supplies to this village. I had run this mission. I can't even tell you how many times, and I was finally excited. I was excited that this was gonna be my last and final one before I could leave. I was scheduled to leave on May 21st. On May 11th, we pulled out very early in the morning to head to Manesar. I had all the confidence in the world that I would get through this mission, that I would be going home, that I'd be able to get back on this plan. I believed in it so, so much. We pulled up to the village and there was already a line outside the door and around the corner to this medical clinic. We're driving. We're dropping medical supplies off at. I thought this is so awesome to see these people so invested in their communities, people so invested in their health and well being. But a part of me wondered, who all exactly knew that we were gonna be coming that day? And what kind of people knew that we were gonna be coming that day? I moved back inside the medical clinic, and about an hour later it got really hot. There were so many people. The temperature in the air was already hot. The dust is like moon dust, and it just traps in your lungs and you feel like sometimes you just can't breathe. I stepped outside to get some air, and I headed towards the highway, as they called it, the road that was nearby the village. And I look down the road and I saw a car speeding at, speeding at a high rate towards us. This is what happened next. We're gonna show you a video, and I do want a caveat that if you are squeamish or if you, um you know, just don't wanna look at or talk about anything war-related, please feel free to leave right now. Please feel free to take a step out. You will not offend me. You will not offend anybody out here. We're gonna show you two videos tonight, and this is the first of two. It's hard to really kind of precursor that video, but what that video can show can describe better than I will ever be able to in my entire life. The car that was speeding down the highway was actually a two ton suicide bomber or a V bit as we called in the military. It had detonated from what I was told about 50 feet from where I stood outside of that medical clinic. I was blown back about 30 feet and knocked my head so hard that it caused disruption, an eruption in my ear. And I started to bleed, and I would eventually be told that I suffered a traumatic brain injury. I suffer from short term memory loss. I shou, I suffer from being short with people and we're gonna get into that a little bit here soon. What I do remember from that day is waking up in a daze, seeing the mass hysteria that you saw here on the video, waking up to body parts and blood not only covering me but surrounding me as I sat up and kind of, um, really looked at the landscape and looked at what had just taken place. I was so concussed and so out of it that I couldn't even really formulate as to what to do next. But before I knew it, a second lieutenant came by and drug me into the medical building in which I had once stood. I was able to catch my breath a little bit, and I turned outside and to look out the door, look out the window, I should say, and that's when I saw her. We're gonna show you this video once again. And the second of two videos is a little more graphic. And once again, if you feel the need to step out, please step out. You will not offend anybody here. Thank you. She was a young Afghan girl, no more than three or four years old. She probably had gone to the medical clinic or the village that day with high hopes of maybe getting like a Blow-pop, or some, you know, some type of toy for just being a good girl that day. I found her near lifeless body laying outside this medical clinic, and I rushed out and I picked her up in one hand, my rifle on the other, without even thinking, just pure instinct. I brought her back inside the medical clinic, and I found a spare room that had a bed on it that was just covered in glass from the blast that had just taken place. Throwing her over my shoulder, I used my other arm to clear glass off, and I laid her there. The medic and I continued to work on her and work on her and tried to bandage that large wound that you, wound you saw in the video. I think in the back of both of our minds, neither one of us had to say it, but we knew that that young girl was not going to live out the rest of her life. Due to an ongoing political agreement between Afghanistan and the United States Armed Forces, we were only allowed to provide a certain level of medical care, and because of that, myself and the medic sat there, did as much as we could, but then watched that young girl bleed to death. The look in her eyes going from pure fear just to pure nothingness was a feeling and a sight that I will never get out of my brain for the rest of my entire life. That this young girl who didn't want anything but probably happiness in the world. This young girl who had nothing to do with the terror and the war and the conflict that was going on overseas was unfortunately the casualty in this situation. Our escort finally showed up, and the whole ride back to base and to the hospital where I eventually was taken, I was thinking, "How in God's name did I just get here? What in the good Lord put me in this position that I just had the watch a child bleed to death in front of my eyes? How would I ever come back from that?" I got to the hospital. I laid up on the bed, and everything had hit me at that moment, not just the blast, not just watching this young Afghan girl bleed to death, but the fact that I was even there in the first place, what had put me there, the fact that I was 1,000 miles away and my friends were doing nothing close to what I was doing, how much I hated that. I hated myself for putting myself in that situation. I hated the world for it even becoming a possibility that that happened. I laid there on that bed, and that was the fifth out of six times that I've cried in the last 10 years. Following that saying, coming out of that, I was we left Afghanistan 10 days later. I was a wreck. Clearly what I had just saw affected me and continues to affect me for the rest of my life. But once again, the most anger that I felt was the fact that I was still not on this plan. Forget what I had just seen. Forget what I had just been on, you know had gone through. I was 20, 20 21, 22 years old, and I was three semesters or four semesters into college. Some of my friends were already graduating, getting married and finding, you know, really successful careers by then. I was gonna be an old college guy, a creepy old college like junior and senior. I was gonna be that guy, and I hated it. I hated it so, so much. I would eventually finish out my career or not my career. I would eventually finish out my college career at the University of Missouri and eventually graduate, which is a big cause for celebration, right? I finally did it. I finally was able to knock off a point on the checklist in the plan, but I didn't focus on that. I focused on the fact that I was still behind, the fact that my friends were two or three years into their own careers now, and I was still looking for internships or jobs. I spent two years so angry at myself and angry at the world One, I think it was what December, January night in 2017, 16, 2017. Work with me on the dates here. I saw an ad for a Facebook group called Campfire, the very same thing at what you all sit here tonight. The question being asked by the speaker was, what was the question? What was the question? Kim, this is Kim. This is who gave the talk. What was your question, Kim? What does it take to be seen? I actually knew the answer. I just wanted to give a shout out to Kim. But the question that Kim focused on was, what does it take to be seen? And it was a powerful story. I was so moved by the story the entire time. It made so much sense to me in that at one point, at one portion or one point during Kim's story, we were able to do a facilitation or in a group activity where she asked us to write down on a scrap piece of paper, something that we wanted to let go. Now, prior to going to Campfire that night, I had gone through two years of obviously, you know, medical therapy, meeting with, you know, five different psychologists in two different states and being on 10 medications for dealing with everything that what had just happened in Afghanistan, dealing with everything that had happened over the last couple of years, dealing with depression, dealing with post traumatic stress disorder, dealing with eventual substance abuse. But for some reason on that night, when Kim asked that question, to write us to have us write down something that we wanted to let go, it made so much damn sense to me. It was so plain and so black and white that despite all the therapy and everything that I had gone through, this little scrap of paper was about to provide the most freeing and therapeutic experience of my life. So I wrote down, I want to stop doing what I think I'm supposed to be doing and start doing what I want to be doing. At that point in my life, I realized that I was never gonna catch up to the plan. And on that night I realized that I was never gonna catch up to the plan. I was never gonna be on this original plan that I wanted to be on. I didn't realize that that I was destined for my own plan, that I didn't have to have that perfect American family and all that good stuff that I wanted so much as a kid. That it was okay to have depression. It was okay to deal with post traumatic stress disorder. It was okay to deal with substance abuse. It was okay to be outside the norm and not have a life like everyone else had. It put me on a plan that started me working at a Whole Foods, where I learned the value of a dollar and learned what it took to get back into school and learned how hard it and learned what it meant to work hard. It put me on a path to have me join the United States Army, where I got in the best mental and physical shape of my entire life. It put me on a plane 1,000 miles east to see portions of the world that nobody else in their right mind would ever want to go see or ever have the chance to see. The plan that I was supposed to be on the entire time was taking place. It just took me six years to figure out that that was the plan I was supposed to be on. So I want everyone to take the ball which I gave you at the beginning of this and take it out of their pocket. Take it out of your purse. We're gonna look at that ball for a minute. I originally said that this was a ball and why I handed this out. This is a ball that I dropped. See the course of events that took place after not turning in my FAFSA paperwork while, wild as hell, it was not a dropped ball. It was something that put me on a new path of life. It was something that gave me an opportunity. It was something that put me on the right plan. So I know I told you earlier to think of this ball as something kind of like, you know, a dip in the road or something that you dropped in your life or something that, you know, you wish you could take back. But that's not what I want you to think of this ball as. I want you to think of this ball as something that put you on a new path, a new plan, something that put you where you're supposed to be, as to where, as opposed to where you think you're supposed to be. Take this ball with you. Put it on a shelf. Put on your bed. I don't care where you put it, but don't lose sight of the fact of what the dropped balls in our life actually mean. I came out of that Campfire and after answering that question so alleviated. I felt like the weight of the world was finally off my shoulders. I didn't have this pressure anymore. I was able to live my own life. I was able to be on my own plan. I was able to be on the right plan, and I went out to my car and I sat and I cried for the sixth out of six times in the last 10 years. But these were different tears. These weren't sad tears. These weren't "I'm falling behind" tears. These were tears of joy. These were tears of self realization that I was on the path that I was actually supposed to be on, that I was doing what I was actually meant to be doing in this life. We're here tonight to answer the question, what happens when you let go of the plan? And my answer for that is simple. You cry probably more than six times. You literally get blown up. You hate people who never thought in a 1,000,000 years that you'd hate. You hate yourself. But after you get through all of that crap in the world, you figure out what matters most. You figure out who matters most. You figure out what you're supposed to be doing, what you're meant to be doing in this life and you cherise that a hell of a lot more. And that, my friends, is what happens when you let go of the plan. Thank you.
Steven Harowitz: 1:7:10
And that is a wrap. I'd like to thank Clay for answering this Season's question, what happens when you let go of the plan? And if you want to, you can see the answers to thisSeason's question, as written by our audience members from Clay's Campfire. All you have to do is visit our Facebook page at facebook.com/campfirestl. That's c a m p f i r e s t l. A special thanks to KDHX Community Media for being our partners on this journey. We're so honored to host Campfire live in The Stage at KDHX and for letting us record in KDHX Studios in St. Louis. If you want to learn more about Campfire and the work we do, visit cmpfr.com. That C M P F R dot com. And if you liked what you heard, please leave a review on iTunes or wherever you find your podcasts. It really helps out. Until next time.